


The Ol' Switcheroo

by 3amepiphany



Series: Drabbles 'n Bits [9]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 18:58:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11812203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amepiphany/pseuds/3amepiphany
Summary: She looked at the clock on the nightstand and then on her laptop. 3:40am.





	The Ol' Switcheroo

**Author's Note:**

> http://billetdouxnondistribue.tumblr.com/post/143777093987/prompt-that-time-scully-asked-for-decaf-coffee

Luckily, she’d brought her laptop. And it had a full charge, fantastic - that was all she knew she’d need for the night. She opened a report for Skinner that she had been working on, about fungus growth studies out on The Body Farm in relation to toxicology statistics. Mulder handed her a stack of napkins and a paper plate that wasn’t big enough for the slice of pizza that was sitting on it, and sat back down in the chair opposite her at the table with his own slice. “Contact just checked in again, says he should be here near 4. He’ll call once he’s close. Is that that Farm report for the Assistant Director?”

She quickly added a little cup of cream to her coffee (no sugar) and sipped at it before putting the lid back on, glad for its warmth, and then eyed the pizza, not wanting to get grease on the keyboard. 

“Your favorite,” he mused. “Pepperoni and mushroom.”

“Thanks,” she said, rolling her eyes heavily. “I figure I can get a good hour’s work in on this before I turn in for the night.”

“If that’s the case, we should have gotten a room with a mini-fridge. Take a minute or two and eat something, Scully, you don’t have to shut down that early. It’d be nice to have a little company while we wait up for our contact.”

She stared at the screen, eager to get going, but then decided that the pizza did sound like a better bet for the moment.

After two of the gigantic slices, she sat back, finishing her coffee and reaching for her bottle of water. She was feeling a little more awake, for sure. As she tackled the report again she answered Mulder’s questions about it - even the weird questions that made it seem like he was framing common molds as alien life forms - explained a few different theories for him, and promised to take him to the Farm at some point for some more experience than what he’d gotten in training.

At that, though, she looked up, and found him sort of sleepily slumping in his seat, chin resting on his hand, elbow propped on the armrest.

She looked at the clock on the nightstand and then on her laptop. 3:40am. Their contact was due to make another call soon, and arrive shortly after that.

She looked at her report.

It was four times longer than she’d needed it to be. Glancing back through it, a lot of it was coherent, but there was so much that was just conversational segues.

She was wide, wide awake.

She checked her pulse.

“Mulder,” she said, leaning over and shaking him a bit. He answered her groggily, checking his watch. “Mulder, are you sure you brought me a decaf coffee?”

He rubbed at his eyes for a moment, sitting forward and trying not to yawn. “Yeah,” he paused, yawning anyways, and then said, “I got a red-eye and you got a decalf.”

“…Are you sure?”

“They should have marked the cups.”

She looked at her cup, and then she reached for and looked at his. “I think you drank my decaf.”

“I feel like I might have.”

“I feel like you might have, too.”


End file.
